


Please, Please Forgive Me!

by Phoenixwriteres



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-06 13:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixwriteres/pseuds/Phoenixwriteres
Summary: A bright flash rose through the pitch-black sky. It brightened the impression in front of Hermione’s eyes. The ground was muddy and soaked by the heavy rain. Thick raindrops hit her face, wetting her clothes, but she didn’t feel it. Numbness was all she felt. She saw it happening, disbelieving. She saw how the light emerged from the tip of her wand and formed a mist around the sixteen year-old boy who stood a few steps from her. The dark trees around them made this night even darker than it already was. The sound of her yelling the spell still rang through the silence, but a shriek from the girl at her left side interrupted that echo. At that moment, a blaze of green light hit the mist in front of the black haired boy. It barely reached his chest before the light bounced back. AU





	1. You Won't Cry for My Absence

# You Won't Cry for My Absence

_To err is human, to forgive is divine. - Anonymous_

A bright flash rose through the pitch-black sky. It brightened the impression in front of Hermione’s eyes. The ground was muddy and soaked by the heavy rain. Thick raindrops hit her face, wetting her clothes, but she didn’t feel it. Numbness was all she felt. She saw it happening, disbelieving. She saw how the light emerged from the tip of her wand and formed a mist around the sixteen year-old boy that stood a few steps from her. The dark trees around them made this night even darker than it already was. The sound of her yelling the spell still rang through the silence, but a shriek from the girl at her left side interrupted that echo. At that moment, a blaze of green light hit the mist in front of the black haired boy. It barely reached his chest before the light bounced back. 

The girl at Hermione’s side raised her wand and cried “Stupefy!” 

“Cho, move!” The boy yelled, but Cho was caught up, watching how the last remaining Death Eater fell to the ground when the bright green light hit her unguarded body.  
Without any sound her body fell to ground, lifeless. 

“No!” He screamed, and ran to the limp body.

Another flash of light rose through the black sky, casting light on Hermione’s pale face, which looked petrified. Coldness wrapped around her body as she saw how Harry shook the dead girl desperately. Hermione hadn’t realized that tears were running down her cheeks or how someone was shaking her, yelling at her. Slowly, ever so slowly, her knees gave in and she dropped to the ground. She started to shake as if she were drowning in ice. She breathed faster and faster until she could not fill her lungs anymore. No air filled them. Blackness surrounded her so suddenly that she wasn’t even aware that she hit the ground.

It was warm where she was. So comfortably warm, nearly blissful. She had slept for so long and so well, as if on a cloud. It had been a dreamless sleep. She was waking up, slowly but surely. Hermione felt peaceful and rested for the first time in weeks after such a sleep. Now wide-awake, she opened her eyes. It was dark in the room and there was a screen around her bed. She was almost certain it was night, late night, but where was she? She didn’t know. There was a black hole in Hermione’s memory as to how she had gotten there. It worried her. Normally, she could remember everything. There had never been a hole in her memory like this until today.  
Which day? She didn’t even know that. She knew her name, certainly. The last thing she remembered was her exams. Though, the last day of her exams was unclear in her mind. Thinking about it was like looking through a mist. Helplessly, she leaned back on her pillow. Her mind was blank and that was something she couldn’t stand. She breathed in and out deeply, searching desperately for a clue as to where she was. Hermione looked around in the dark. This place was oddly familiar to her she just couldn’t put her finger on it, at first. High ceilings, wide rooms… This could only be Hogwarts. 

Slowly it dawned on her. She was in the hospital wing, but why? And why was she alone? Nothing around Hermione told her how long she had been here. Her bedside table was empty. Not even flowers were there. Maybe she had just fainted during her exams. In all truth, Hermione had become obsessed with her studies shortly after her parents had been found dead just few months ago. But for some reason, she didn’t believe she had fainted. Once more she looked around. There was a short flash of light and she could make out another pair of screens around another bed at the far end of the hospital wing.  
Curious, Hermione stood up, with great effort, from her bed. Someone had put her in some pyjamas. Hermione walked over the cold stone floor. The loud slapping of her bare feet rang through the silence. Her breathing and her own quick heartbeat were the only other things she could hear. Once in a while, the faint thunder joined these sounds.  
When she reached the screens, Hermione hesitated to reach her hand out, but still decided to throw back the curtains. The next flash of light illuminated the sight in front of her, a horrible sight at which Hermione stared in utter disbelief and agony. On the bed lay the corpse of Cho Chang. Her lifeless eyes were staring right back at Hermione who was no longer able to breathe normally. The memories rushed back fast, so painfully fast. Hermione shook her head as she stumbled backwards. She was horror-struck by the sight of Cho. How could she have forgotten it?  
Hermione turned around and rushed to the doors. Frantically, she tried to open them but they were locked. With both arms she hammered against the cold wood till her fists hurt and then were finally numb. 

“Let me out! I want out!”, she cried with all her might.

Suddenly, the door opened and Hermione fell right into Madam Pomfrey’s arms. 

“What in the devil’s name-- Miss Granger! You shouldn’t be out of bed,”, she stated firmly as she held Hermione an arm’s length away. 

“I don’t want to go back there. I can’t go back!” Hermione shouted at Madam Pomfrey as she pointed with a shaky hand into the Hospital wing. Another flash of light showed the nurse the cruel sight. 

“Oh my! I told them to bring her down into the Dungeons. Come on. Calm down, Miss Granger. In just a moment she won’t be here anymore.” 

Hermione shrugged her hand off harshly. “I won’t go back there. Never! I-I’ll go to Gryffindor Tower!” 

“You can’t, Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said finally and she made a move to drag Hermione back into the Hospital Wing. But Hermione just stepped back, and before she knew what she was doing she ran down the deserted corridor. 

“Miss Granger, come back! You aren’t supposed to leave the Hospital Wing today…” The stern voice of the nurse echoed faintly after Hermione.

Faster and faster, her bare feet carried her through the castle, over the moving stairs, higher and higher to Gryffindor Tower. She did not register the tears that slowly found their way down her face. All she wanted, all she wished was that the nightmare would end here and now, that the thunderstorm would stop, that the portraits wouldn’t follow her race.  
Finally, out of breath, she reached the Fat Lady. 

“Dear, what are you doing here?” She sounded rather upset, as though angry that it was the middle of the night. 

“Dumbledore’s Army!” Hermione panted. With a sigh the portrait swung open. 

The common room was empty. Only a faint gleam of a fire was in the fireplace. Strangely enough, Hermione did not feel right in this place. Though nobody was there, though everybody else was sleeping, she felt as if she did not belong there. Slowly the image of that night played back in her mind. She watched as Cho had fallen dead to the ground. The tears that had never stopped falling still glided down her cheeks when Hermione suddenly understood what she had done. What price would she pay for her foolishness? Cho, the love of Harry Potter, was dead because of her, because of Hermione. She had taken away what he loved. The realization of this fact hurt and Hermione understood why she didn’t feel like she belonged to this place. After this she couldn’t bear to met Harry or Ron or anybody else from Gryffindor.  
But where would she go? Back to the Hospital Wing, back to the corpse of Cho Chang? Nothing in this world could take Hermione back there. Certainly, they all already knew what had happened. Devastated, she walked to the couch and sat down. It was still warm in the common room and she leaned back. For a long time she just stared into the remains of the fire before her eyelids begun to feel heavy and, finally, she fell asleep.  
The darkness had her back.


	2. Maybe Someday You'll Have Woken Up

_If we really want to love, we must learn how to forgive._  
\- Mother Theresa  


No one could understand how the Death Eaters got on the Hogwart’s grounds. Nobody could say how everything ended how it had ended. He just knew everything was over; nothing was the same. Cho Chang, a girl he had liked since he was thirteen years old, was now lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing, dead. Harry still wore his wet clothing and his hair was still wet from the rain, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t felt the need to change. The only thing in the common room that lightened the darkness was the strong deep orange fire in the fireplace, the only thing that created a warm tingle on his face.

Just minutes before he had been out there in the Forbidden Forrest on his knees and trying to understand that this girl was dead. Dead because of him, just because of him. Sometimes, he wondered how he could go on with his life. After Sirius had died, almost one year ago, Harry thought he could never go on. Never feel anything again. But he fooled himself into living again, fooled himself into a relationship that was over. Now he no longer knew if he had ever loved Cho. For weeks, Harry knew the relationship was over again, but still he wasn’t able to just let her go. It had felt too good to know that she was there, to know he was just a normal teenager with a girlfriend.

But Harry had never been an ordinary wizard, never had an ordinary life. He gulped as he thought about how everything had turned out. It was all a mess, even his feelings. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or just sit there and hope that all of this had been just a bad dream. How he wished his friends didn’t need to go through this hell. If it were just him he could live with it, but it was not so. When the term began, Voldemort had already struck against the wizarding world. Fudge, the minister of magic, had been killed and with him a long list of other Ministry workers who Harry didn’t know. It had been luck that Mr. Weasley wasn’t as work that day.

Soon, too soon for Harry’s taste, the muggle world was involved too. Because of him, Hermione was now an orphan. Her parents had been killed first of all muggle victims. He knew that she knew why and this knowledge had caused a rift. Though Harry wanted to be there, he wasn’t, because he couldn’t bear it. Nothing he had lived through could compare to her loss and he knew it. He who had never known his parents did not know what it meant to lose your parents when you’d known and loved them all your life. Slowly his eyes started to burn, and he felt tears running down his face. With all his might he tried to stop it. More than once he brushed those tears away from his face, his eyes. Harry wasn’t in the position to cry, never had been.

How dare he cry as if it were his pain when others died just so he could live? First Cedric, who was far too young, had died then Sirius, and now Cho. Still, Harry had been foolish enough to think he could go on like that. He could have saved Cho if he just hadn’t started their relationship all over again. Once in his life he had been selfish in his attempt to become a normal teenager, to forget just for one moment who he was. But now he had woken up from that dream to learn he could never be an ordinary guy, not as long Voldemort was out there. His thoughts went back to the power which he should have against Voldemort. He still couldn’t even protect the one he loved so dearly. How could he ever have any extraordinary power to win in the end? Harry’s had no answer for that.

A bright silvery like light illuminated the dark common room for few seconds. For few seconds, he could see his own shadow and the portraits here so clearly it was frightening. The room fell back into darkness only disturbed by an angry growl of thunder. Harry knew he wouldn’t get any sleep, not now. Though Madam Pomfrey had given him a bottle with a potion for dreamless sleep but he never had taken it. It was still untouched. He didn’t want to rest. Ron was already in their dormitory and was probably already deep asleep. But Harry needed to think about it. He just couldn’t go to bed now. Not after what had happened. In his ears he could still hear the Ron’s yelling and if Harry dared to close his eyes, he saw her again. The way she knelt on the muddy ground, pale face brightened by another flash.

It was a picture he never wanted to see again. It was so broken, so destroyed, and it was just like he felt. After Hermione had been knocked unconscious every moment had been like a strange dream. Harry could remember that he and Ron brought both girls back to Hogwarts, but the only thing that remained clear in his mind was the thunderstorm and how cold the rain had felt. Soon Harry had left the ward, left it all behind him, because he couldn’t bear it to sit there and wait until Hermione woke up again. Because of her he was alive, because of her, he still felt pain. Death could have been painless. He shook his head. He needed to live, even if it was just because of a prophecy that needed to be fulfilled.

With this thought, suddenly, new life started to burn in him. He needed to do something, anything. Without much thought he went to the 6th year boy’s dormitory. As he entered, he heard loud snoring and the faint thunder. Silently, Harry illuminated his wand and went straight to his four-poster bed. He fell to his knees and reached under his bed. Another flash rose across the dark sky exactly at that moment and he felt a silky material between his fingers, the invisibility cloak.

Minutes later, under the cloak, Harry walked with the Marauder’s Map in one hand and his wand in the other towards the Library. It had become a usual ritual to him to look in the old library for books where he could find the answer. The most powerful spells and anything else that came close to what he needed. But in all these months Harry hadn’t found anything. The most powerful curse was the Killing Curse. Faintly, Harry wondered if this was the power. He knew he could never beat Voldemort with his own weapons. Just as Harry was about to reach the Restricted Section he stilled his movement. A loud cry, a bitter sob, was echoing through the castle. He was startled by this and held his breath.

Maybe it was just a ghost or Peeves. Harry closed his eyes tightly so that he could hear better, but it was silent again. He only heard the thunder. Then, suddenly, the cries grew louder and he could recognise the voice. His breath caught in his throat as he realized who it was. Through the castle, through the corridors, echoed Hermione’s frightened voice, her sobs. Nothing else today had made him realise what had happened, but this sound, this cry woke him up. How could he have forgotten it what it must mean to Hermione? What role she had played in all this. If the grief about her parents couldn’t destroy her, the guilt about Cho’s death might do it.

“Cho…” He whispered as he turned around to go back to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry didn’t belong in the Library. At least not now, not this night.


	3. You Forgot Me Long Ago

_We cannot love unless we have accepted forgiveness, and the deeper our experience of forgiveness is, the greater is our love. - Paul Tillich_

With a sudden jolt Hermione woke up. Slowly she opened her eyelids. She was still in the dark common room. The fireplace had finally burned out and the thunderstorm could only be heard from far away. Somebody had put a warm blanket over her. She groaned lightly as she started to think about what she should do now. She put the blanket aside as she sat up. As she took a closer look at it she wondered who had taken care of her like that? Who would do such a thing after what had happened, after what she had done? The very thought made her throat close painfully.

Uncertainly, Hermione turned her eyes from one corner to another empty corner. Indeed, the common room was empty, but still she didn’t feel alone. Rather she felt as if somebody was watching her. It couldn’t be. As she stood up and turned to an armchair in front of the fireplace it was empty too. Carefully, she took one step after another until she was standing in front of the armchair. Somehow, she could even feel there was someone. So she reached a hand out and soon, all too soon, she felt a familiar soft, silk-like material under her fingertips. Hermione grabbed a handful of the cloak and pulled it off of Harry, who was sleeping. Before she had a chance to feel angry, she felt touched that he hadn’t forgotten her this time.

Her breath became quicker at the mere thought of what had happened and why she was in that situation after all. Oh, Hermione was angry and at the same time she was guilty. All these emotions pressured her in a way nothing had ever pressured her before. If she could just turn back the time and make things right again.

“You’re awake?” a hoarse voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Why are you here?” Hermione hissed.

“I told you before that I care for you. That’s why.” Harry answered flatly.

“No, you forgot me long ago.” she whispered as she turned around and let his cloak slide to the floor.

“That isn’t true, Hermione. Don’t you see? Don’t you see that I never forgot you?”

“How should I know? You dropped me like an old pair of shoes. Since our 6th year started I haven’t existed to you. All you did was ignore me, as if I had never been your friend.” There was a dangerous gleam in her eyes as she finally faced him again.

To her surprise Harry was standing right in front of her, looking straight into her face.

“You know why. I didn’t want to hurt you. That was never my intention. What I wanted was-“

“Don’t start with this again! You keep telling me you wanted to protect me but all you’ve done was leave me alone when I needed you. Have you any idea how much I needed you? But all I got was the cold shoulder. My parents are dead. They died the most terrible dead there is and you-you just kept going. How many nights have I hoped I would wake up from this dream, wake up and know you were nothing but a bad dream. I would give my life for you but you wouldn’t even give me a hand if I needed it. If you call this protecting me I don’t know what you’d call killing me.”

Harry groaned painfully at that.

“We had this conservation before. I-I can’t make it right again, Hermione. If I could your parents would still be alive you would never have met me. Your life would be fine and safe,” he whispered not daring to look into her eyes.

“And Cho would still be alive. You don’t need to say it. I know she’s dead because of me. Because she saw us like that,” Hermione answered and turned around to go up into the girl’s dormitory. She couldn’t forget what had happened earlier this day, before Cho Chang had died. It felt surreal and so far away but still she could see it.  
_  
The last ray of sunshine told her the day was nearly over and her patrol would start. It was one of the dullest things about being Prefect. All she ever would find were students who weren’t back in they common room in time. Sometimes, she would even find Mrs. Norris strolling through empty corridors. Hermione really disliked the cat that caused her so many troubles. At least once every night she had to see Filch and explain to him that she was doing her duties, not plotting to set his cat on fire. She never mentioned that she really had thought about it. In the daytime, Hermione was with Ron and Harry, though Harry tried to avoid her. For months they hadn’t spoken with each other. At the beginning, Hermione had thought it was because of the things she had said back in their 5th year. But, slowly, after she had gotten the news about the death of her parents, after she had a breakdown, she knew that Harry had forgotten her._

_It had hurt her so deeply at first. She had never thought that something could hurt her more than to know that she had to life without her parents. But she had been wrong. It was just as painful. Why, she didn’t know. Hermione was about to pass the Transfiguration classroom when she heard a very loud bang. Like she had received an electric shock she jerked around and searched the dark corridor with wide open eyes only to find that there was nothing. Suddenly, from far away she could see something moving in her direction. Was it a ghost or just her petrified mind playing tricks on her? A rush of air hit her face before something solid pushed her to a classroom with the door opened. Shortly after door was closed she heard an angry voice. It was Snape screaming the name of the one boy he hated the most._

_”Potter, now I have you. Being in the restricted section without permission will earn you three months of detention.” Just a few steps away from her she could hear panting. Before she could react Harry opened his cloak just to press her against him. One hand covered her mouth and the other covered them both with the Invisibility Cloak._

_Harry’s face glistened lightly with sweat and it was tense. He tried hard to steady his breath as Snape seemed to came closer each step. A faint creaking told them that he was in the classroom, too. A tall shadow filled the entrance, but Professor Snape didn’t step in, he just turned around on his heels and left._

**Authornote:** First I like to thank you for reading this story. Second this story was written before the last two Harry Potter books were published, means you won't find any hocruxes or anything like that in this one. However as much I like to answer your other questions, regarding the spell in use I can't for now. I'll get to it after it is done.


	4. Sorry Is All That You Can’t Say

_If our hearts need to be broken, and if he chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it. -- C. S. Lewis_

_From far away Professor Snape’s cursing echoed through the corridors. Harry smiled slightly to himself about the fact that he had managed to slip through Snape’s fingers once again. An angry growl brought Harry back to reality. He still had his hand over her mouth as he looked at her as if he hadn’t registered her presence. Angry brown eyes were fixing him with a stare and he knew that he had a problem. Maybe an even worse problem than he would have had with Snape. For the first time in weeks, months, he was close to Hermione again. Slowly his hand left her face, but his gaze was fixed on her, though her look should probably scare him. On some level it did but still he was amazed that after all he had done to try to push her away he now stood in front of her, so very close. But his left hand remained around her waist._

_“What are you doing here? You know I should take points from you for this and probably give you detention,” she hissed and threw the cloak from them both in anger._

_With more strength than he thought she had she pushed him away from her. Harry didn’t answer her question. He couldn’t and, honestly, didn’t want to. Hermione wasn’t allowed to know what he did nearly every evening in the restricted section of the library. Just this night Snape interrupted him during his research._

_“Are you going to say anything, Harry, before I inform Professor McGonagall?” Her voice was quivering._

_“You wouldn’t.” he answered. Even after all that had happened in the past months this was something Harry knew. The face she made at this statement alone told him he was right. Only just then he recognised that it had been a long time since he had seen her smile or even in a good mood. The frown on her face was now much too familiar and he knew why. Hermione, frustrated, turned around and was about to leave the class, but Harry was faster. Against his better judgement his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist and spun her around to him._

_”Where do you think you’re going?” he asked her as he saw, to his amazement, tears in those brown eyes._

_“What do you care? Just let me go and we can go back to pretending that we never knew each other!” Though her voice sounded unaffected her eyes told him another story._

_Slowly two water drops did found their way down her face. Harry raised one eyebrow slightly before he cleared his throat._

_“I did never pretended not to know you.” His voice was strangely gentle._

_“Well, if you never did why-why weren’t you there when I needed you? W-why did you act as if I didn’t exist anymore? Why-” Her voice broke and she lowered her head._

_Hermione’s shoulder shook but just as Harry tried to embrace her she took a deep shaking breath and looked up again with a deadly stare. Tears were streaming down her face, through the shadows in the room they appeared silvery._

_“I don’t exist anymore in your life don’t try to fool me, don’t try to make me believe it’s not like that. Excuse me. I have to finish my patrol now.” She tried in vain to loosen his grip but he didn’t think to let her go. “Let me go!” Hermione cried but instead he drew her closer to him._

_“No, I won’t let you go. Not now, not ever,” he whispered to her. They both stared into each other’s eyes. Hermione was determined to get away from him, but didn’t move or struggle against him anymore._

_Softly he touched her face to push away a strand of hair. There was a sadness in his eyes that wasn’t reachable._

_”All I ever wanted was to protect you.” His voice was barely above a whisper._

_“Protecting me? Why would you want protect me that badly?” Hermione wondered._

_Harry couldn’t answer this question. He just stared into her face in hope she could read it in his own. Unaware of what he was doing he drew her even closer to him until he could put his arms around her. He hugged her tightly but she didn’t hug him back. How much had he missed her? He couldn’t even find the right words to describe how much. So warm, so full of life, if he just kept her away from him she would stay like that._

_But how much did that count for if she was alive but so sad? Slowly he caressed her back with his hands. Never before was Harry aware of how small she felt in his arms. He felt how she relaxed into him, how she laid her head heavily against his shoulder._

_“What are you doing to me…to us?” He heard her whispering but could only marvel at this feeling of her hands on his back. Tightly he shut his eyes as they started to burn. He knew too well that soon he would have to let her go again._

_Harry had sworn to himself that he would do everything to keep her alive, even if it meant letting her go. But never in all his life had he thought it might be this hard. In attempt to end their hug he kissed the side of her head lightly, but before he could let her go the door opened and to his surprise Cho Chang stood there._

_“What…? Harry, what are you--” She stopped in the middle of her sentence as she saw with whom Harry was in that room. To his amazement, Hermione just looked at him and then stepped out of this embrace to face Cho, who still stared in shock at them. “I – I knew there was more about her. I always knew but I believe what you told me, Harry.”_

_Strangely enough, as he saw first signs of tears he was annoyed that she thought that lowly of him._

_“There is nothing about me and there never was. At least nothing more than being friends with Harry,” Hermione told Cho._

_“And you think I believe you? Too bad that I’m prefect myself or--” She started hiccoughing._

_“We aren’t even friends anymore. I fail to see what your problem is, Cho. He did this for you. I don’t exist anymore in his life--”_

_“No, that isn’t true, Hermione. Why do you believe that? I would never shut you out of my life. You’re too important,” he interrupted her harshly._

_“I was so stupid to take your word over what I could see with my own eyes …” With this Cho spun around left them both alone._

_“Of all people!” Harry could still hear her shouting._

_In attempt to explain he ran after her. Half a corridor down Cho was leaning against a wall crying. As Harry reached her he carefully laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off._

_“Don’t even try to explain it! I know what I saw, Harry. Hermione Granger is everything but your friend and you know it. You just preferred to play. I thought what we had was special but I fooled myself, thought you could b-be like Cedric!” She was screaming at him and he flinched at this name painfully. Roughly, Cho pushed him away from her before she ran away._

Hermione’s voice was still ringing in Harry’s ears as he heard the faint thunder from far away. Finally the thunderstorm was over but this was not and he didn’t know if he could win her back.


	5. Words Don't Come Easily

_Love is an act of endless forgiveness. - Peter Ustinov_

It was only two weeks since she had failed. With her spell, she had saved his life, yet lost his friendship. In failing, Hermione Granger had killed her best friend's girlfriend. She was the smartest witch at Hogwarts, yet she had failed. After casting her intense charm, the Killing Curse had reflected off of Harry, and onto Cho, a girl who was only weeks away from leaving school.

It had been Ron who screamed at her. He'd since told her more than once how stupid she was to use the shield charm. She knew it already. The second the light escaped from her wand, she knew it was a mistake. She could have easily used Wingardium Leviosa, but the shield charm was the first thing that came to mind in her moment of panic.

Harry wasn't the same -- he was so distant. How hard had he fought? How long had he fought to break Cho out of her sadness? It didn't matter anymore; she was dead, killed by someone who he thought wasn’t a part of his life anymore. It wasn't Harry who told Hermione that she was to blame; he didn't need to tell her.

After they returned to Hogwarts with Cho's body, the trio was split. Hermione stopped talk to Harry. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and couldn't even study anymore. It was a miracle she even bothered to get out of bed in the morning. The times she did, it was unbearable sitting in the Great Hall; the students looked at her as though she was as bad as Lord Voldemort himself.

This wasn't the worst of it, though. It was not that which began to break her soul. It was Harry. Only he could make her feel like this, pulling her further into her own personal abyss. She could see it in his eyes. Whenever he chose to look at her, there was nothing but sadness in the green eyes that she loved so much. Pure sadness for what she had done, for her failure.

Week after week, she wished with all her heart that the Killing Curse had reflected at her instead. In her mind, though, she knew that she couldn't give up--not yet. Even if Harry hated her, she swore to herself that she would do all she could to save him, to keep him safe. Voldemort wasn't dead. He was alive and well and still wanted nothing more than to finish Harry off. But Hermione would be there, even as the wreck she'd become, even without a friend in the world. She would be there and she would give her life for his, so that he could live a real life after Voldemort's defeat. This gave her the strength to go on. Only a few more weeks until summer break, and only one more year she had to survive. She knew she could do it.

It was difficult to know that her former best friend spent every evening in the same room as her. Hermione always took care to avoid Harry, leaving the common room in the mornings early for breakfast, and staying in the library except for late at night, when she worked in her designated corner of the common room.

In classes, they didn't sit next to each other anymore. They didn't even look at each other. She decided to avoid most classes until the summer holidays. She couldn't sit there and listen to her teacher; listen to how they told her she wasn't top of the class anymore. She didn't care. She didn't need it anymore. Her own life had ended when Cho's did. Even so, Hermione knew she'd be Head Girl no matter what she did at that point.

It was one of her bad days. She couldn't bring herself to get up. She simply lay in bed and waited for the damn day to end. No tears were left, for she was empty. Her whole body began to show signs of decay. The heavy dark shadows underneath her eyes. She had lost weight, too, perhaps about ten pounds. Her clothes were beginning to get too big for her, hiding her too-thin frame. Her appearance was unhealthy, but not unhealthy enough for the casual observer to notice.

It was only two weeks after the day that she had failed Harry. She knew she had to change back. If she didn't, she wouldn't be strong enough for the next attack from Voldemort. She wouldn't fail the next time. But it was too difficult to go back to the way she used to be, it was too hard to eat even one bit because she knew that someone had died because of her. She didn't want to fight anymore. All that she wanted now was to close her eyes, and to never open them again.

The day simply went on, passing slowly by. It was late evening when the door opened. She didn't notice. Her eyes were shut, and she was still lost in her own personal hell in her mind. At first, she didn’t hear anything, only the cold, dark shadow of someone caused her to open her eyes.

Harry stood before her. She blinked hard, not daring to say anything. The only thing she did was stand up. She was shaking hard from surprise, anticipation, and lack of food. Only a few steps to the door, and she would be out of his reach.

With all of her Gryffindor bravery, she turned around to face him. He stood only a few steps away. She could feel how he eyed her carefully.

"You look horrible," he said. "When was the last time you slept, or even ate something?" His voice was hurtful to her ears. Stung, she shut her eyes and wished for him to go away and leave her alone.

"It's not your problem," she said. Her voice was rough. It was the first time she'd spoken in a long time. Harry shook his head slowly. Until now, Hermione hadn't noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

Slowly, he got closer to her. "I care about you. It should be my problem."

"Not anymore," she whispered. She could hear how her voice began to break.

"Don't you understand?" he whispered back. "I don't want to lose you, Hermione."

"No, you didn't lose me," said Hermione, still shaking. "You lost someone much more important to you than I could ever be." She couldn't look into his eyes anymore, and instead fixed her eyes to a point on the floor. "Please. Just leave me alone." She drew in a shaky breath. "Go... please." She tried to sound strong, but it only came out as a soft plea. There was no response from Harry. It was too quiet. It was only the sound of him breathing that told her he was still there.

"I didn't love her." She looked up and saw, to her surprise, that he stood directly in front of her. His eyes burned into hers, making tears well up in her eyes.

She tried to get away, but he grabbed her arm almost painfully. "You don't know what you're saying," she said, looking away.

"I thought I would, but I didn't," said Harry, his voice rough. It softened slightly as she flinched. "You know it's true, don't you?" His face was only inches away from hers now.

Hermione could feel his breath on her skin. She didn't dare move or speak. With his hand, he cupped her cheek, and leaned closer until his lips were near hers. She could feel how he touched her. How he wanted to kiss her. He touched her lips carefully, gently. It felt so right, but it had to be wrong. She tried to back away, but he didn't let her. He held her face close to his.

"Don't," whispered Hermione. It was all she could say. He cut her off with a gentle kiss of his lips. His tongue ran slowly over her lower lip. Hermione couldn’t resist anymore, and parted her lips for him. Only a second later, she could feel how his tongue touched hers. It was as if the sky exploded. All the pain, all the weeks of loneliness, was forgotten. Harry pulled her closer to him, and wrapped one arm around her waist. With his other hand, he held her head closer to his. She'd never been this close to him before.

Hermione attempted to resist. She couldn't let her feelings take control. Her heart began to beat quickly. Her eyelids shut once more, as he began caressing her tongue with his own. She hadn't kissed him back until now--she couldn't. But she couldn't stop him, either. His hand, warm and gentle, ran over her back, stringing it slowly. She didn't know how long she could resist kissing him back.

She could feel her old feelings of want growing back inside of her. She had wanted this for so long, and now here he was, holding her close to him. But she couldn't do it. Not after what she'd done to him, after what she'd put him through. Harry let go of her head and his hand travelled down her side. It was simply too much for her--she was his.

Hermione touched his face and brought him as close as possible, kissing him back uncertainly. It wasn't wrong anymore. She couldn't think of anything more right. He broke the kiss and brought his lips to her cheek lightly, before moving on to her neck. He flicked his tongue over her skin lightly, and began to unbutton her pyjamas.

As she felt his hands on her skin, she bit her lower lip. His tongue was now at her earlobe.

"I need you," he whispered into her ear. Hermione turned her head to look at him, and stared into his darkened green eyes.

"I need you more," she replied. Her voice was low, and tears were shining in her eyes.

"Shh." He kissed her again and took her into his arms. He lifted her up and carried her to the bed. Her pyjama top was nearly unbuttoned, and his hand was back on her skin. He barely touched her, merely grazing her skin with his fingertips, but it was intense enough for her to shiver underneath his touch. Carefully, Harry kissed her softly from her neck to her collarbone, and she couldn't hold back the soft moan of pleasure. It was so good to feel again. To forget how alone she'd been.

He undid the last buttons, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin. With one of his fingers, he traced slowly around her right breast. He knew what to do to get her. It was amazing how his touch made her feel loved. With feather light kisses around her nipple, she could feel herself shivering beneath him. Far too slowly, in her opinion, he moved his tongue in circles over her sensitive breast and around her nipple. He then took her nipple completely in his mouth and began to suck on it.

Hermione gasped at his warmth. Frustrated, Hermione grabbed for his t-shirt and tried to pull it off. Harry took her hands in his and helped her before allowing her to pull her arms out of her own top. He kissed her and slipped his tongue into her warm mouth as he moved his thumbs over her breasts. She was becoming more and more aroused by his soft, gentle hands on her skin and as he grabbed her breast fully, she moaned again.

She let her hands run across his chest. She could feel how his breath became faster at her touch. Softly, she touched the muscles across his stomach. His muscles strained and flexed beneath her fingers. She was surprised that she could do this to him. Quickly, her pyjama bottoms were pulled down and taken off. Hermione didn't know how he'd done it. Maybe it was magic, but she knew for sure that his hands were there, and that they had touched along her legs to her knees.

All this time, he continued to nip at her breasts -- first her left one, then her right. She knew she'd go crazy if he continued to tease her this way. She gasped out softly as she felt Harry's hand between her thighs. He looked directly at her as his middle finger slid between her legs. Hermione closed her eyes as he rubbed across her clit. His warm breath was all over her skin, but he didn't kiss her. He only watched her as his fingers slipped carefully in.

Slowly, he moved in and out and her hips began to meet his thrusts. Suddenly, Harry stopped and took his fingers out of her. Hermione groaned quietly, wanting him more than anything. She wanted him completely. She opened her eyes and saw directly into his. Her hands went down to his trousers. With surprising ease, she undid the button and unzipped his trousers. She smiled when he saw that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

With a little help from Harry, she pulled off his trousers and his boxer shorts. Her hands were shaking slightly. She hadn't gone this far with anyone, until now. But now... it was different. There were no regrets or fears that this could be wrong. It was right. More than right. As he shifted, his erection pressed against her thigh. With his right hand, he touched her cheek lightly. His eyes were burning with desire.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked his voice low and filled with more desire than ever. "You can tell me if you don't."

"I want you," was her desperate reply. She kissed him deeply. With his other hand, he parted her legs gently and laid himself between them. His erection was now only inches away from entrance. She could feel the heat emitting from him. She stopped kissing him and looked into his strained face. Slowly, he began to enter until he reached her barrier to stop.

"Kiss me," he commanded, his voice husky. Hermione did what he asked of her, and kissed him with all the love and desire she felt. She touched his lips with her tongue until they opened up for her. She had barely begun to touch his tongue with hers as she felt a sharp pain in her lower abdomen.

Hermione broke the kiss. But before she could leave his mouth, he kissed her back, caressing her tongue with his. In the meantime, his hands stroked her side down to her thighs. The pain dissipated as he began to move slowly inside her. At first, she felt a light tickle, which quickly became desire.

He was still caressing her tongue as he laid her legs around his waist. It was amazing how deep he was now. She opened her mouth more as he thrust deeper and faster into her. Muffled moans escaped from both of their lips. Hermione pressed her legs more tightly around his waist as she started to move her hips against him. He went faster, and his mouth left hers.

Hermione could feel Harry's ragged breaths against her skin and she tried to catch her own breath as she started to feel how something was growing deep inside of her. She began to bite her lower lip in delight while both his hands grasped her bottom to get her even closer to him.

His thrusts were unbelievably fast and deep. Her moans grew louder as she began to lose her mind completely. She could only feel now. It seemed that he touched her soul with every new thrust. Every time they met, it was as though fireworks were only seconds away from burning and exploding. Her muscles around his erection began to twitch. She felt how they twitched in rhythm to her heartbeat.

Hermione screamed as she reached her edge and only seconds later, she felt Harry's release into her. His breathing was burningly fast as he laid his head on her shoulder. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, and hers around him. She ran her fingertips through his damp hair.

It was wonderful to lie there, and merely feel.


	6. Baby, Can I Hold You Tonight?

_To Love at all is to be vulnerable. -C.S. Lewis_

The sunshine was falling into the room right into her face. Very slowly, she tried to open her eyes. More and more light of the new day filtered through her eyelids. She wasn't dead, and she wasn't in heaven. A shy smile, perhaps the first smile for weeks, crossed her lips.

There was so much light it was nearly painful. Somehow she had that feeling she was safe now. Here in her bed, she wasn't in any danger. What a strange dream she had had. It was as if she had actually spoken to him and then to dream that he was here and did love her. After all he was her friend. Yeah, her best friend.

Suddenly this smile faded. The very first smile in weeks faded away as quickly as it appeared. Hermione was now aware that someone was holding her tightly with unbelievably warm arms. This can't be, can it? Somebody was pressed against her back. With a pang she realised that she was naked. Once more she closed her eyes and thought that this has to be a dream. This can't be true.

Hermione could feel how his breath was against her skin. She was sure she hadn't dreamt it. It had been real. Harry started to move behind her. His hands were moving all over her body. Lips were travelling over her neck. His lips and his hands were it. It felt so good but her mind started to work again.

She pressed her eyes tightly shut. _Don't think, please just don't think._ But this nasty little voice in her head was muttering again and again that this wasn't right. Her feelings told her that it wasn't wrong. It couldn't be wrong. Instead her mind shuts up before it starts a new attack like Harry, who was lightly sucking her neck and at the same time stroking her belly working his way towards her breasts. _First you kill his girlfriend and now you cross the line._ How could this have happened?

How did he shut her mind up yesterday? Hermione didn't need wait to long to get her answer to that Harry turned her head to him. He was kissing her again on her lips and she didn't hesitate to open her mouth.

Gently, too gently his tongue battled with hers. With her right hand she brought his head closer to her. Slowly she sat up still kissing him with his hands around her. _You can't let it happen again. But I need it. Don't be so selfish._ Carefully she ended this kiss and opened her eyes. In front of her eyes was Harry's face. His sleepy eyes were burning into hers.

She gulped lightly when she saw that he wasn't wearing anything although a blanket did cover his legs up to his waist. With his thumbs he went slowly over her breasts. If he did that any longer she would lose her mind once more. Her feelings would win again over her mind. Lightly he kissed her shoulder. She took a deep breath. Harry didn't make it any easier. Everything he did just made it more difficult for her.

This was too fast. Yesterday they didn't talk, didn't even look at each other. Only one step in her bedroom changed everything. How could this happen? How could her own mind lose against her weak feelings? She knew it. Oh, Hermione knew how this could happen. Weeks alone were the reason. Weeks without hope, without warmth.

Now she wasn't alone anymore. Now he held her, touched her, even licked her bare skin. But still it was wrong. Harry wasn't supposed to do that. She wasn't supposed to get it. This time her mind was stronger than yesterday. "Harry!" she whispered. He still didn't stop touching her to let her clear her mind. Lightly she groaned by this.

That was so difficult to say and still he didn't let her get a clear mind. It was cloudy and weak against her feelings.

"I..I..!" she started again but all that came out was stuttering.

"It's all right, Hermione. I'm here." He interrupted her.

His eyes were again looking straight at her. Her own hand reached after his face and touched his cheek. At this point she was aware that she didn't want to let go off him, not yet.

_You're so selfish._ The voice rings through her mind in the second his lips meet hers. Maybe this was still her dream. Maybe you want this too much. Her tongue meets his. She didn't care now who started it even though one side of her wanted to stop it. Before she knew what Harry was doing, she was again on the bed and he was on top of her, holding her erect nipples between his fingers and rubbing lightly over them.

Hermione could feel how much this aroused her. This was what she wanted. Suddenly she was aware that he was even more aroused by this. It brought her mind back. _You know it's wrong!_ She didn't kiss back, didn't run her fingers through his hair, and didn't touch his back anymore.

Harry stopped kissing her lips and instead he was travelling down to her neck. Licking and sucking her skin there, he moved on to her collarbone. Before she could say anything one of her breasts was in his mouth. She tried to hold back her moan but it escaped her throat.

"Harry, please…!" Hermione whispered between two fast breaths. Between her thighs she could feel his hand resting there causing her breath to come faster. If she didn't stop him now it would be too late.

"Please, … Oh god!" He interrupted her with his finger in her sex.

A second one slipped into her causing her to let out a moan. Slowly he moved his hand. He stopped to suck on her breasts and then he blew over them. With his open mouth he travelled back to her face. Her eyes were open as she stared into his.

She could read in his eyes all the wanting, lust and most amazingly of all love. Love for her that wasn't possible. Not after what she had happened.

"We..we have to..stop this!" Hermione managed to say, though it brought her close to insanity.

"Why?" He murmured as he bent down to her face and let a rain of kisses over it.

Still his fingers were in her moving in and out. So damn slow moving.

"Because it's too fast."

"It isn't toofast." He answered shortly as he moved from her. Now he laid there like before with her back to his front.

She knew that she needed to do something before it was too late. _But you want it to be too late._ His erection was pressing against her. With one arm he brought her closer to him. Now he was only inches away from her entrance. She felt the heat from him.

"We didn't even talk to each other." She breathed out as he slid out his fingers.

"We couldn't talk about pain." His breath tickled into her ear.

"How you looked at me…!" Her voice was breaking lightly.

"I hated it so much what Voldemort did to us; that he could separate us like that."Harry whispered hoarsely as he kissed her once more on her lips.

Now her mind shut down completely. With her left hand she went between her thighs passing his hand there and guided his member to her waiting entrance. Hermione pulled herself closer to him. Her butt crushed into his hips and his erection was deep into her. This feeling caused her to open her mouth wider and allowed Harry's tongue to explore more of her warmth.

Slowly he moved against her with his hand still between her thighs. Still rubbing and teasing her clit. With every thrust he went faster. Hermione meet his hips as she started to feel this amazing feeling build up inside of her. His moan was muffled. All over her breast his hand was gently kneading it. Her muscles clenched tighter around his erection. Loudly she moaned as she reached her edge. Her breath was fast but her heartbeat was faster and Harry was still moving still thrusting into her with such power that it was nearly breath taking. Seconds later he met his release with one final thrust into her deeper than before. Lightly she felt how cold sweat was building on her hot body.

"It's ironic." Hermione said after several minutes. Harry's arms were tightly around her. There was no space between them. "It's ironic that my mind is so weak against you." She went on but he didn't hear her. His deep breaths told her he was sleeping.


	7. Maybe If I Told You the Right Words

_Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. -C.S. Lewis_

Late morning and he was still sleepy. Maybe it was that he wasn’t in his bed. Maybe because he had had sex with his best female friend. What a strange twelve hours that had been. Nervous he ran his hand through his hair. The place beside him was empty but still warm. Harry was alone in her room, alone lying in her bed. The sunshine was streaming much stronger through the windows on the mess of this room.

Harry should have known it. He should have known that it had been too many feelings, too much love. Like being bottled into a small glass, and then someone suddenly opening it and all the emotions steaming out.What did he expect? That Hermione could forget if he couldn’t even forget. Still he knew that he loved her, but did she love him?This wasn’t the right situation for them. They shouldn’t start it like that. He had always thought that if he fell for her, that it would be different. That they would go slow. But it hadn’t been slow and it didn’t botherhim.Not as much as the fact that they hadn’t been close in the past months.Hermione was different and so alone. She wasn’t living her life anymore.She was feeling so low and unable to function, that she wasn’t even in her classes everyday.

Cho was dead and Hermione was guilty. No, she isn’t guilty It’s Voldemort. Only he did it. If Harry closed his eyes he could see Hermione with her wand in her shaking hand and this wide open eyedlook as if she wanted to just faint. This picture hurt him. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t felt something more as Cho was falling to the ground. Only when he looked up to Hermione could he feel how empty his heart was.

Still he could hear Ron’svoice from yesterday. The sharp hissing that told Harry what a fool he was. Maybe his glasses were still lying broken on the floor.

“Did you ever love Cho or was it always Hermione?” Ron yelled at Harry after he told Ron that he still cared for Hermione. Shaking in anger he jumped to his feet took his glasses which were shattered from his nose and threw them with much more power to the floor. Without a second word he left the common room and went to the prefect area.

What happened then was amazing. Slowly he sat up in her bed. It was time to stand up. But he didn’t want to face this problem. Thinking of what Hermione said this morning, Harry thought if he held her, if he kissed her, she would forget. He was wrong, he knew it now. She had left him there all alone. With all of his heart he wished they could just go on without looking back. Didn’t she know how short life could be? Didn’t she know that he didn’t want to lose her? That he only wanted to feel her, to feel that she was alive again! Of course she knew it, but did she want what he wanted?

“We..we have to..stop this!” she had had told him with difficulty. He would have stopped if she hadn’t guided him back to her. All he wanted to do was to hold her and make her forget. Sadly, he wasn’t successful.With one push, he jumped out of bed. He couldn’t stand to lay there and think. Where was she--maybe in the bathroom or in the common room. Harry didn’t know. Hermione was gone when he woke up. She left him alone.

His boxers were lying on the floor. He put them on and took the rest of his clothes in his arms. His wish was now a nice hot shower.As he opened the door, he noticed it was much darker in the corridor. Without his glasses, it was much more difficult to see anything more than six feet in front of him. Lucky Hermione wasn’t that far away yesterday.

On the other side of this corridor was his room and a little bathroom, so he didn’t need to take that big prefect bathroom. Somehow it was better for him to know he wouldn’t meet any other student. Especially not Ron, who used this bathroom, too. It was like a different life now, now that the trio was spliced.He could see everyday how much worse she felt. This pain that he felt was the worst he had ever felt in his life. And to watch how Hermione suffered from that, knowing he could end it, but not being ready because he didn’t know the right words. What should have he told her? No words in this world could take it away.

After Harry’s 5th year, he had the same feelings as Hermione did. It was difficult for him to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t guilty. Nobody could take this feeling from him not even Cho. “Yeah, Cho!” he murmured slowly and sighed. Damn it, if the guilt Hermione felt towards her parents’ and Cho’s deaths was anywhere near what he felt at the time of Sirius’s death, he knew this simply was not right.

Harry was still standing in the door lost in his thoughts, lost in the past. Slowly he shook his head and went on to his room. It was so dark in this corridor. He found a door and pushed open. “This isn’t my room,” he said to himself in surprise. Somehow he had managed to open the bathroom door.

A mist was flowing through this little room and it was hot in here. Now Harry knew where Hermione was. “Sorry, I didn’t know…!” he said unsure because he didn’t see anything. It was different now. Not like early this morning when he was sleepy and wasn’t thinking. Now he was awake and standing in a bathroom full of mist. He started to sweat lightly. On his heels he turned around and wanted to leave her alone.

“Wait! I wanna talk to you,” he heard her voice beyond the mist.

“Can we…can we do that later? I mean a bathroom isn’t the best place, is it?!” To his own surprise he was nervous. Nervous about what she could say to him.

In his heart, he had a bad feeling. He didn’t like how she sounded. Hermione´s voice was so distant, without emotion. Nothing like it was a few hours ago.

“It can’t wait…” she broke up. Slowly he turned back, the mist still in front of him. He couldn’t see a tiny thing from her. Before he knew it, in front of him stood Hermione wrapped tightly in a white towel. Her long bushy brown hair was wet. She was lightly sweating or was it still water? He didn’t know it. His mouth went dry as he saw her.

“Hermione, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he croaked.

“I needed to say that to stop it.” With wide eyes he looked at her. This wasn’t serious. She didn’t mean what he just thought.

“I…I wanted to end this earlier but…but I couldn’t you were too close. We did cross the line, Harry! This isn’t right. You aren’t supposed to sleep with me and I’m not supposed to touch you like that,” she went on.

“What?” Harry asked blankly.

“You heard me right. I can’t do that.”

“Are you telling me that was wrong? But it isn’t wrong, not if I love you!” His clothes fell to the floor. He was now truly shocked. For the first time, Harry recognised that Hermione wasn’t lookingat him. Her eyes were fixed on her hands which shook lightly.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she whispered.

“I mean every word I said to you. Why are you doing this? This doesn’t bring her back. Hermione, you have to go on.” His anger was rising, and, deeply, he breathed in.

“You just don’t understand me. I didn’t do it because of…of her. I do it because of me.”

“Right, I don’t understand you. Can’t you see that I don’t want to lose you?” He reached to touch her cheek, but she backed away.

“Well, we are in the same boat, aren’t we?! Let’s just stay friends.” Her voice was absolute, without any emotions.

“Friends? We were always more than just friends.” All he wanted right now was to put his arms around her tightly. But this was impossible. She stood there in this white towel with the water from her hair streaming over her skin. This wasn’t right, that his feelings weren’t right.

“Call it what you wish, but we have to go back to that.”

“This...This isn’t like switching back to normal. You know damn well that it isn’t like that.” He felt how his voice was rising.

“You think I don’t know it? Of course I know it. But after all that’s happened, this is the last thing that could help us. We would destroy everything that is left.” She sighed and looked up straight into his eyes. There was sadness and something he couldn’t describe but it made his heart jump.

“How will you know?” his voice was barely a whisper.

“I just know it. Look what happened between you and Ron, between us three. We aren’t friends anymore. But that is what we need to be--the war isn’t over. The worst things haven’t happened yet. We need to stay close and not separate.”

In her voice there was a pleading that wasn’t there before. “Who said that we can’t be close if we stay where we are now? What is wrong with that?”

She turned around at these words. “Because friends don’t do that.” As she said that she faced him again and her face became cramped. Only some pearls of sweat made it softer.

“Don’t be cruel, Hermione. Don’t be cruel to me and not to yourself.” To his own horror, his voice was pleading, displaying all of his feelings.

Again he reached for her face. He barely touched it as she took his hand in hers.

“Don’t. It wouldn’t change anything. I know it’s hard but it’s for the best.” A sad smile appeared on her face as she let go of his hand.

“I won’t take it. Don’t think I’ll let you do this. For once in your life, be selfish, Hermione…” he went on but she went around him and left him alone in the bathroom.

“You can’t shoot down feelings. You simply can’t. It makes it irrational.” Harry’s own voice was echoing from the walls. Emptiness was what he felt. But at the same time he wanted to run after her, embrace her, and bring her back to him.

She could hear Harry’s angry voice as she closed the door behind her. Taking a shaking breath, Hermione leaned against the wooden door.She wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to face him one more time, at least right now. It had cost her every bit of her control to stay there and to tell him it hadn’t been right. With her hair dripping wet, wearing only the towel, she became aware that this was the room where everything had happened. What was it that was keeping her from being with Harry? Something deep inside of her was against it, against the fact that she had lost control yesterday and again this morning. “Is it enough?” she asked herself. Her own voice was so unsure. Slowly she became aware of what it was that she was feeling.

It was the naked fear that he could cost her everything. She had been a mess because ofCho’s death. But what would happen if shelostHarry? She needed to be distant with him again, but would it be enough? With both hands she pushed herself away from the door. Luckily today was Saturday and maybe she could hide in her room, hide from her feelings which weren’t as strong as her mind that was telling her to keep her distance. Never before had Hermione felt like this.There was so much confusion between her heart and her head. Feeling frustrated she went to her cupboard. Slowly she opened it and searched for fresh muggle clothing.

For the entire morning, she thought about how she should go on from here. How could they sort this out in these last few weeks of the year?It was time to reunite the trio, and this was another reason she needed to deny her feelings for Harry. She loudly threw the doors to the cupboard shut, now holding some jeans and a nice shirt. She didn’t care that her bedroom looked like shit or that her hair was still wet like her body. Her mind kept working. It was telling her to run back to him and tell him that it was all a mistake. That she didn’t mean what she had said. But she couldn’t risk it for anything in this world.She laid her clothes down on the bed, and made her way back to the cupboard to get some underwear. However, before she could reach the cupboard door, the door to her room burst open. She turned around saw him for a second. “Ha-” Hermione said lamely but was cut off by a strong embrace.

His arms were tight around her waist and Harry was kneeling in front of her. She didn’t trust her eyes.

“Harry, I …please. Why?” she stuttered.

“Don’t leave me this way,” his voice was muffled and slightly whimpering.

She was speechless. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen him like this. He never pleaded for anything, and now here he was kneeling in front of her and holding her as if she was the last thing in his life. Slowly, she brought her hands to his head. Still she was shocked and still she could feel his arms very tightly around her waist. It was difficult for her to breathe because her own feelings started to overwhelm her.

“I didn’t leave you,” she whispered softly.

Even though Harry’s hair was wet, she ran her hand through it. Hermione knew it wasn’t what she should do, but she couldn’t stop it. It was too much. In every sense, it was too much. She didn’t want to push him away, but she didn’t want him so close to her either. But now he had reached her and was close to her as before. Suddenly, she slipped down to her knees. He looked directly into her eyes. He opened his mouth but closed it again. Then he tried it again.

“Just tell me that you don’t love me and I will leave you alone. I would do it. Just look into my eyes and say it,” he whispered. She couldbarely hear him. She looked at him for a long time before she tried to answer.

“I can’t. I just can’t!” she said again only this time louder. She was tellingthem both that she couldn’t say she didn’tlove him, and at the same time, she couldn’t be with him either.

She realized that this was what it was like to be in love. She slowly figured it out.

“Hermione, it doesn’tchange anything if you push me away. I tried it and it doesn’t do any good. You know that, don’t you?”

“It makes me so weak,” she whispered back.

Harry’s arms went tighter around her with her words. “I’m with you. You hear me? We can get through this. ”

She nodded slowly before she leaned into his embrace. Her head leaned against his shoulders and his on hers.Lightly, he kissed her bare shoulder and loosened his hold on her, but didn’t let her go.


	8. Though I'd Die to Know You Love Me, I'm All Alone

_If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. –C.S Lewis_

Through the darkness and shadows of this old house only faintly creaking of wood could be heard. It was just barely alive. Even after two years it was still dark, so dark that it reminded one of a house of a dark wizard. Indeed once it had belonged to a family full of dark wizards. Slightly warm sun rays fought through the clouds and illuminated the house that nobody could see. 12 Grimmauld Place was still headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It was still where people planned Voldemort’s downfall. This dark house was now Hermione’s home. She was sitting alone in her room feeling empty and numb. Just three weeks she had been here, but it felt like an eternity. At Hogwarts it hadn’t been that hard to go on. There was a library and many people around her, duties and much more to keep her mind far away. Here, however, she couldn’t hide from her feelings anymore. Everyday had been harder than the previous day. More and more she understood the full impact of what had happened last year.

The whole world she had learned to love was crashing down. She feared losing again because she couldn’t bear it, not again. Silent tears welled up in her eyes as she felt once more how her throat started to burn so horrible from the pain of her soul. She gulped this feeling down hard as she stood up from her bed. After all, Hermione had made up her mind. Angrily, she washed the few tears away with the back of her hands before she finally left the room that had been her own for three weeks. Slowly Hermione went through the dark corridors of this house. Her own steps made the wood creak loudly. Just as she was about to reach for the banister she heard the loud familiar screams of Mrs. Black. Irritable, she backed away to turn around and go back into her room. It had been this morning that a white owl landed in her room. Tightly held to Hedwig’s leg was a letter for her. It was one of many letters Hermione had gotten from Harry, but this one was different. Because she knew he would soon be at Grimmauld Place, close to her, something she couldn’t bear. How well she remembered how much she tried through the last few days at Hogwarts to be stronger, but she wasn’t. She just wasn’t strong enough for this.

After three weeks apart from Harry, she knew she couldn’t do this, not now. Not after all that had happened just a few weeks ago. Cho, Harry’s girlfriend, had died. Just a few months ago Hermione’s parents had died. How was she supposed to feel sometimes, she wondered? Nobody could expect that she could just forget all of this, forget a whole year full of misery, a year that changed her whole being, whole life. Even if she were stronger too much had happened for her to just go on and forget.

She knew that he wouldn’t understand her decision like he hadn’t understood it the first time. But now it was different, so very different than before. Once again she had been alone, once again she could think about what happened. Though always on her mind, this voice that would tell her, not for the first time in a voice very like Harry’s, that she couldn’t make it rational. Who said she wanted to love again? Nobody had asked her if she was ready for all those feelings, all this pressure. Her wounds were fresh and it still pained her if she just thought about her loss. How was she supposed to bear losing someone whom she loved even more?

Before Harry finally reached the first landing Hermione was again in her room, which was rather bright compared to the rest of that house. She hadn’t dared to have photo of her parents, how they would smile at her with so much pride that she couldn’t stand it. Only books, many books, told it was indeed her room though the soul was gone. Soon, almost too soon, she heard someone banging against her door.

“I know you are in there, Hermione. Please open up we need to talk.” Harry’s calm voice came through the door. But she didn’t answer and with all her might she tried to shut him out. Again he banged against the door this time harder.

“Hermione! Why are you doing this? Come on let me in and we can talk.” His voice sounded no calmer, but emotional, still she didn’t open up. She just couldn’t face him. What should she tell him anyway? That she loved him but couldn’t be with him, at least not now. Hermione knew it wasn’t just that easy. There were more reasons, a reason that was so selfish. Harry had hurt her when he just abandoned her and it still hurt.

Loudly and now so much stronger, Harry hammered against the door, so hard that she could hear how the wood was creaking.

“Open up the door!” he demanded but she just lay down on her bed and covered her ears with her pillow. Maybe he would just go away and let her be. Maybe, just maybe if she woke up she would be back in her own bed and maybe she could have one of those usual summer breakfasts on the balcony with her parents. She could feel the warmth of the sunlight on her face. She could hear her parents chatting and asking her about her school year. A long forgotten warmth surrounded her but was soon replaced with coldness, the horrible coldness of loneliness. With a jerk Hermione woke up shivering and with a closed throat. She needed something to drink. Luckily it was already night and Harry wasn’t anymore banging against the door. Silently, she stood and went the stairs down into the kitchen.

Everything was dark, even darker than it was normally. Just as Hermione was about to reach the sink she turned abruptly around at a noise. To her horror, there in the doorway stood none other than Harry Potter himself. Though it was dark, though she could just see an outline of a person, she knew who it was.

“You finally found a way out of that room, did you?” he snapped angrily at her. “Probably thought that if it’s all dark you could safely avoid me, but I don’t give up that easily, Hermione. You owe me an explanation,” he went on as he stepped closer.

“I don’t owe you a damn thing, Harry,“ she retorted angrily. As she was about to pass him he held her back.

“I don’t understand you anymore. What happened in the last weeks? Why are you so determined to push me away? I-I thought it was more than just a fling between us. I thought it meant more to you.”

His grip softened, so did his voice.

“What happened?! You’re really asking me what happened, Harry? Well, I can’t help you if you don’t know, can I?”

“Then help me to understand because I don’t know why you are acting like this? It’s almost as if you don’t want me to be close to you anymore,” Harry whispered, but at this Hermione shook her head.

“I wish it could be that easy, Harry. Six years ago when I learned I was a witch and when I arrived at Hogwarts all I had were my parents. All I knew was their love. But I learned at 11 years old that there were people who cared for me so deeply that they risked their life for me. I never had friends before, Harry. Not friends like Ron and you. From that day on I would have done anything for you just as long I didn’t lose you as friends. If I thought my 3rd year was bad I never knew how bad it could become. I had done anything for you Harry but as I needed you both the most I was all alone. Don’t you understand? As they died you were all that was left, but I lost you too. You didn’t care anymore. I’d have died to know that you love me, but I was all alone. Do you still not understand? You hurt me so badly. I thought I lost you,” she sniffed slightly.

For a long time, he couldn’t speak. Harry opened his mouth but closed it again just to try it again. “I’m sorry,” he croaked as realised what he had done.


	9. To Err is Human, To Forgive is Divine

_Love is an act of endless forgiveness. - Peter Ustinov_

Even if it was dark he didn’t dare to look at her. Only by her painful words had he realised what he had truly done. Instead of protecting the one who meant so much to him he had hurt her more than he could bear.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you like that. You must believe me. I didn’t mean to.” His voice sounded so heartily he could hardly bear it.

After Harry got used to the darkness, he saw her face, which showed a familiar frown and faint tears in her eyes. She was about to shake her head once again as he drew her into his arms.

Tiredly she struggled against him, but soon she gave in. “Can you ever forgive me for this? All I ever wanted was to protect you. Last year I-I nearly lost you, too. I thought you were dead even if it was just for seconds. I knew I could never bear no longer having you at my side. A-After Sirius died and after we returned to Hogwarts, Dumbledore told me all about the prophecy.” An uncomfortable silence fell after he had said this.

Harry could feel how Hermione tensed in his arms. She was obviously thinking about what he just meant with these words. But he didn’t want to tell her. Softly, he kissed her cheek, then her neck. More and more his hands caressed her body. She felt so warm in his arms that he didn’t want anything but to hold her and pleasure her.

Finally his hands found their way to her face, which he held gently as he stroked his thumbs across her cheeks. Hermione’s face held no sign of a frown now. Slowly he closed the distance and placed his lips on hers. Harry just nibbled at her lips at first. Then Hermione gave him access and, gently, his tongue met hers. A kiss which was meant to be an easy one, a more innocent one, turned quickly into an intense one. Without knowing that he was moving he suddenly felt that a table was directly behind Hermione. For a brief moment he stopped kissing her and lifted her on the table. Hermione’s mouth was slightly open as she gazed at him. Slowly she regained her breath, yet before she could say anything Harry was kissing her again.

As if to take away every pain, as if trying in vain to forget his own burden, he dwelled on her lips. As though they had a mind of they own, his hands found a way to the buttons of her blouse. But, unexpectedly, Hermione stopped him with her own hands. Open-mouthed he nibbled on her skin, slightly sucking as he felt how her heartbeat quickened under his touch.

“Let me love you, Hermione,” Harry murmured against her neck.

“What does it say?” Hermione asked finally.

Abruptly he stopped and looked straight into her eyes.

“You really want to know? You’ll happier if you don’t. Because of me you’re already far too deep in all this.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I’ve been in this all along because I love you, Harry.” At these words Harry closed his eyes tightly.

Would she still love him if he became a murderer? He leaned his forehead against hers heavily and sighed as her hands went through his hair. “I-I have to become a murderer or I’ll be killed. Neither can live while the others survive. Will you still love me if I become a murderer, Hermione?” His voice shook in fear as he told her about it. Harry breathed her scent in deeply as if to remember that she was still there, still had her hands in his hair.

She said nothing, no words found their way past her lips. She remained still, remained as if she hadn’t heard him as if she hadn’t understood him. Her eyes bored unblinking in his own and with a sigh he closed his eyelids again. Hermione’s hands suddenly stopped and drew him to her with a strength that was impossible to resist. He rested his head on her shoulder which quivered slightly. Her arms were tightly around him, so very tightly as if she never intended to let him go. At first, he wasn’t aware of this change, but soon he felt how Hermione nuzzled his neck, how her hands started to travel his back, travelling further up to his neck.

It was peace. Finally his burden didn’t seem too heavy anymore. She hadn’t pushed him away. All she did was hold him more tightly against her. Harry loved this woman. He loved and admired her so completely that all of his fears, all his grief, had no power over him anymore.

“Can you forgive me?” he murmured in her ear. To his disappointment she pulled away and searched his eyes, which had started to burn.

Soft hands framed his face before he heard her say, “How could I not, Harry?” Hermione kissed him. “How could I not?” she whispered with a broken voice as she was about to kiss him again, but he beat her to it.

With an enormous hunger, he sought her warmth. Never before he had a stronger desire to feel as close as possible to her. Feverish his tongue met hers. Finally, his hands started to unbutton her blouse, but before he could feel her bare skin he felt how her hands were caressing his chest, which was now bare. Absently, he wondered how she had managed to get his pyjama top unbuttoned so quickly. He trailed his fingers along the outline of her breast and she took a sharp breath before his hand was placed firmly on her breast.

Astounded, he stopped kissing Hermione and looked into her face.

“Just touch me,” she mouthed to his unasked question.

Carefully he squeezed her breast causing her heavy eyelids to drop shut as she bite her lip lightly. Again he searched her full lips just to taste them once more, before he placed an open mouthed kissed along her jaw, over her throat, and finally to her collarbone. Before he reached her bra it was already loose. All he need to do was free her breasts from it. He marvelled her impatience. But he was relieved that it wasn’t just he who was overcome with a passionate need to be with her.

As Hermione pressed him more tightly against her own hips he couldn’t suppress a groan. Soon, indeed, very soon, both were sweating and panting for more air. Harry was standing with undone trousers between Hermione’s legs. The only thing she was still wearing were her knickers a piece of clothing which she would lose very soon as well. Yet before his hands found their way between her legs, he could feel her small hands closing around his aroused member. He breathed in sharply as she started to stroke him.

One day she would be the death of him, he thought, as she sucked lightly his earlobe. From her breasts to down between her legs, he ran his hands over her body until he leaned so close that he forced her to lie down on the table. The old wood creaked loudly as their weight landed fully on it. Longingly, Harry gazed into Hermione’s eyes before he finally took care of her remaining piece of clothing, before he laid himself between her spread legs. Heat and dampness he were emanating from her and the warmth was still increasing as he closed the space between them.

As he entered her tightness he closed his eyes to control himself. Hermione’s hands were rooming over his damp back as she laid her legs around his waist and pulled him as close as possible to her. Harry heard her sighing as he kissed her cheek. For a few seconds he just enjoyed this feeling of completeness before he kissed her urgently and started to move. Skin on skin, body on body, they moved like one. Secretly, Harry wondered how long it would take them, if someone might catch them. But he didn’t care as long he felt her heartbeat against his own, as long he could hear her muffled moans and know they were together.

_It's the way of the world and its motion_  
And no ocean can keep us apart  
When the moment is right and you're holding me tight  
You capture the beat of my heart  
In my heart there's a fire always burning  
And there isn't a thing I can't do  
I'm resigned to the fact that there's no turning back  
And I'll never regret loving you 

_By Albert Hammond and Graham Lyle_


	10. I Don’t Want to Lose You

_I don't want to lose you_  
I don't even want to say goodbye oh no  
I just want to hold on  
To this true love, true love  
I don't want to lose you  
And I always want to feel this way  
'Cause every time I'm with you  
I feel true love, true love, true love  
I don't want to lose you  
I don't even want to say goodbye 

_by Albert Hammond and Graham Lyle_

Silently her thoughts went back to the horrible night that Cho Chang had died. She had been the first person in Hermione’s young life she had seen die. She had been the first person who was ever hit in front of her very eyes with the killing curse. Since Hermione knew about the prophecy she feared the one she loved with all her being could be the next person. Many days of the last year she had tried to push away her fears of seeing the lifeless body of this seventeen year old boy. They were hearing nearly every day about new attacks, torturing and killing.

In their sixth year they met Death Eaters, unprepared, in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. What the Death Eaters were searching for there they never knew. They knew only that they were attacked directly. Due to the death of Minister Fudge, Dumbledore had left Hogwarts alone that day. Sometimes Hermione wondered if Voldemort knew better than they thought what happened at Hogwarts, otherwise he couldn’t have known that on this day Dumbledore hadn’t been there. How foolish they had been that day to try and fight Death Eaters just because they got away with their lives in their fifth year?

Sadly, Hermione shook her head at those memories. Graduation was just a few days away. The NEWTs were already past them. Despite this, an uneasy feeling kept hunting her as if she was about to lose something dear but could not stop it. She looked at her notes for the planned graduation speech intently. Hermione didn’t know why she was supposed to say anything. The world which awaited them was crazy, and in the middle of a war. Until today she did not know what she would do in the future, or even in a few weeks. Because of her status she hadn’t yet a job or anything that she could do. It was nearly impossible for her to get work even if she got as many as NEWTs as were possible.

People, especially the Ministry, feared that if she worked with them, they would become one of the targets of Voldemort or any other dark wizard. By now, Hermione was just as famous as Harry Potter. The only difference was that she was marked as muggleborn. No one from those under her year that were muggle-born had any prospects, at least, not in the wizarding world. Ron was the only one who already had a job. He would work at Ministry for in the International Sports department. Shortly after their seventh year had started Hermione, Ron, and Harry had tried to sort things out.

It had been unbelievably hard for them to get past all those emotions. It had been Halloween when Hermione learned Ron had had feelings for her for a long time. Though Ron kept saying it had changed over the years, still she could see it was hard for him. After all, she had been his first love. She was slightly irked by the thoughts that she was the reason that he had changed so much. Ron had been always her best friend, but nothing more. Everything had made sense after they got this out, after Hermione finally knew. For Ron, himself, this changed a lot. Finally, he was able to get over those long hidden feelings. The first time Hermione had ever seen Ron with another girl he was happy with her. Deep inside herself she knew that she could have never been that girl, never be the one who made him glow like that.

In the past months, Harry had been more and more withdrawn. Hermione didn’t know how she could cheer him up. Many nights they searched in the library for spells. Any magic that might help Harry in his fight against Voldemort. Sometimes it seemed as if he expected to die in those next days. Hermione simply refused to think about this possibility. The only power Voldemort did not know was Love, but how, Hermione wondered, was Harry supposed to use any spell or curse with such an emotion if all he felt in such situations was only pure, all-consuming hatred? Though she knew better she had written all kinds of spells and potions down that were supposed to protect or to attack with the power of love. Still, she had wondered if those notes would ever be used.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the portrait hole opened and Ginny Weasley came in. A huge smile was plastered on her face as she saw her best friend sitting thoughtfully in her favourite armchair.

“There you are, Hermione. I have been searching for you all over the castle,” she said brightly.

“Don’t you have Potions?” Hermione looked at her clock.

“Sure, I have but the Head-Boy told me that your presence is needed. I suppose Minister Dearbone wants to congratulate our most famous Trio himself.” If it was possible Ginny’s smile grew even more.

“This is bit strange even for Dearbone!” Hermione said suspiciously.

“You know how he is, Hermione. Have you ever met a person who was stranger?” Ginny asked as she led the way.

“Moody was surely more strange,” Hermione muttered as she followed the youngest Weasley out of the Gryffindor Tower down the stairs.

“Ron and Harry already waiting there. I suppose a few Aurors will come with you. These days no security can be high enough,” Ginny told her as both reached the Great Hall.

Dimly, Hermione remembered how Dumbledore had warned Harry that now that he was an adult, fully trained wizard Voldemort would strike as soon as possible. The Great Hall was nearly deserted. Just a few seventh year students were sitting here and there. Rather quickly they went through the hall and left through a door behind the staff table.

It was the same door behind which Harry had vanished after he was announced as the fourth champion in their fourth year. A rather dark room greeted them.

“Finally, we’re all here. What took you so long?” Ron asked his sister.

“Maybe you trying searching half of the castle yourself, dear Head Boy, if I’m not fast enough,” Ginny said coolly as she turned to Hermione. “Good luck.” She hugged her tightly before she left her alone with Harry, Ron, Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley, Mcgonagall and Dumbledore.

“For your safety Tonks, Remus and Kingsley will go with you. This portkey will bring you safely to the Ministry. I trust, Harry, that if any danger comes you’ll conjure a new Portkey that will bring you back to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore explained as he gave Harry an old goblet.

Hermione took Harry’s free hand into her own. He squeezed hers slightly.

“Well, good luck and have a nice stay.” Dumbledore said before everyone except himself and Mcgonagall took hold of the portkey.

With a sudden jerk everything in front of Hermione’s eyes vanished and she felt how shoulders bumped painfully against hers. She didn’t feel her hand anymore so tightly she was holding Harry’s hand.

She slammed onto the ground hard with her feet, but they were not in the ministry, like she expected, but in a dark graveyard. At her side she felt how Harry tensed and a loud noise told her that the goblet had fallen to the ground.

“Wands, now!” he hissed as they could see dark shadows surrounding them from a few yards away.

Just as Hermione had her wand out she heard a few loud cracks and at least twenty hooded people stood in a circle around them, but only one face frightened Hermione the most. Red gleaming eyes were fixed at Harry. She had never seen Voldemort before, but she knew that she would never see a more terrible face than this.

“Harry Potter, finally, we meet again. We both know this will be the last of our oh-so-delightful meetings. Let’s end this like honourable wizards. Just you and I in a duel,” he said in a high-pitched cruel voice.

But neither Harry or the others moved or say anything. Still Tonks, Lupin, Ron, and Kingsley were on their side, all shoulder to shoulder staring with their wands pointed towards all those Death Eaters. There were just too many of them, Hermione thought frightened. Though they were just seconds before a battle still Hermione’s hand was holding Harry’s.

“We don’t need them here anymore!” Voldemort cried to his Death Eaters and pointed to them.

Soon the first curses were yelled and heading at them. Fast, just like they had learned in the DA Hermione avoided the green light which was supposed to be for her. “Protego!” She yelled and let go of Harry’s hand.

He was obviously too busy to conjure counter spells against the Death Eaters. Before long they could hear a few more cracks. At least ten Aurors and Dumbledore himself had Apparated. Voldemort’s Death Eaters still had the upper hand. At least five of them were fighting against Dumbledore.

Out of the corner of her eye Hermione could see Ron fighting with another Death Eater, just as she saw how Ron fell motionless to the ground. She saw how another Death Eater was lunging after her. With tears in her eyes she conjured a quick shock spell, and with a loud noise Lestrange fell to the ground.

Meters ahead, she saw how one spell after another was flying around Harry’s head. Voldemort was determined to kill him as soon as possible. Dodging spells and avoiding various fighting Death Eaters and Aurors or member of the Phoenix, she ran.

Out of breath Hermione reached Harry who just glared at her out of the corner of his eyes.

“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort yelled. 

Harry was so distracted by her arrival that he didn’t pay any attention to the green light that was heading for him. Without any second thought Hermione pushed Harry out of the line of fire with so much force that he fell to the ground.

“Harry!” she screamed as she saw into those surprised and shocked eyes before bright green light hit her small body. Abruptly, everything turned black.


	11. I Won't Despair Nor Be Hopeful

_It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. - C.S Lewis_

An unusually beautiful path lead here up. Between some bald trees through a lattice-like shade on the bitumen soil. Some branches moved back and forth in the tender wind. The juicy green meadows worked wrongly at such a place. It was shortly after noon, so that the sun shone golden and took the frightening aspect from this place. A clear, deeply blue sky bordered the whole scene. A steadily growing shadow covers the soil. It was a man wearing a long coat.

Deeply he inhaled the cold air, while he continued to go down the path. Unbelievably cold weather established itself here, which imprisoned him. No birds were chirping nor were any tones to be heard. A dead silence prevailed, which concerned him. However, apart from his own breathing and his heartbeat, he could only hear his own steps. He buried a hand into the left pocket of his black coat. In the other one he held a middling bouquet. It didn’t look too big, as if it were a joy to be here. Only one symbol of their parting of the ways. He considered some moments whether he should come here, whether he should leave these lattices behind himself to visit a cemetery, which he did not want to enter any more.

He was only a few steps away from the gravestone and he could see the stone. It was a standing marble gravestone. An angel seemed to stand guard. The wings were a completely noble work, each individual feather could be recognized, as could the anxious face expression, which was meant for the visitor. This figure was there for protecting and at the same time for comfort. Harry left the strengthened way and passed over the meadow. Other stones which were here for years, over to the new stone which one could recognise must be freshly made. It had a dark grey marble, which appeared possessed. Deeply carved, like an irrevocable wound, the name was graphed in. Harry kneeled down ponderously. He read the name, touched his hand to the grooves, in order to make sure that he didn’t imagine it. That he hadn’t just imagined everything. Carefully he laid down the bunch of dark red roses.

"Hermione Jane Granger," he read quietly.

He didn’t know that she had a middle name. He hadn’t know much about her. Now that he was here, it did interested him suddenly what Hermione had written down in her notes. Harry had never dared to read them without her permission. His long shadow fell on the stone. The stone felt cold under his skin, icily even. It was so improbable, more improbable for him, since now that he saw her grave and how the date really reads off of it. He knelt there on the cold greenway and asked himself what he actually wanted. Here was nothing except this stony proof and the uncanny silence. Almost as if she were standing beside him, or at least the angels would look at him pitifully.

Only gently the wind touched the field here, as if it was a holy place. Harry had felt like that since he had entered the cemetery. In winged shoes he had went the way down, as if he wasn’t himself any more.

"I am here because I wanted to say good bye but not only that," he whispered to himself, then he looked up to the cloudless blue sky.

Perhaps he saw her spirit. Slowly he lowered his head again, saw to the grass which was planted here. Metres under him there was no coffin. Her body had been never found. He didn’t want to just say only good bye, but he wanted permission for his plan. He had tried to forget it, because it was against the highest law of the wizarding world. Harry swallowed hard as if his throat was closed.

"You taught me to follow rules, not to break them if not necessary but you must understand I have to. I just have to, Hermione. You don’t know how life is without you. It is like everyone else won just not us," he broke off.

Harry noticed how his eyes filled with tears. Too well he knew how the past weeks had been. How much he had struggled with this idea because changing the past could mean he got Hermione back but with her Voldemort, too.

"Oh God, Hermione, you know that I’m here because I’m about to change time, something that could be the most terrible thing I’ve ever done. I know that I shouldn’t risk it, that you want me to have a life without Voldemort, without this burden. I cursed the whole world that you had to die due my errors, due my fate. Instead of being grateful of the time we had I’m just so selfish, and just want you back into my life. Oh, I have to be so lucky that you loved me this way. You loved me despite everything, so that you forgave me. We had an untouchable gift. What we had others will never have. Everything we once had… I’m willing to risk because I just can’t go on without you at my side. Because by you I was more human than ever. I cannot live a life like this."

With his right hand he went over his face. As he looked up again, he saw now that there were words scratched in the rock further down which said:

_I won’t despair_

_Nor be hopeful_

_I won’t cry_

_Nor laugh if I have to be without you_

_To live my life without you_

_Is like the day without the sun_

_The night without the moon_

_The sea without the water_

_Which brings the air_

_Which I don’t want let into my lungs,_  
If you’re not by my side  
  
It will be an eternal mark that expressed how it had been and would be.

“Today I will use the Time Turner that I got from Wormtail. I do not know why Voldemort never used it but it seems he never got hold of it, never the chance to change the time and kill me when I was still young. I hardly know what the outcome of this will be, but I just have to try it, Hermione. You know I have to because I want you back and even if I fail it’s it better to die in vain than to life in vain. Please, please forgive me for what I’m about to do. Don’t be mad at me, don’t blame me because I tried, I really tried to go on. But I just couldn’t. The past three months were the hardest of my life. All the years before are laughable if I just think about how you left me. How you fell to the ground lifeless. It should have been me and not you. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t cry or anything else. Everything that happened after this is like a dream, a bad dream." His voice slowly broke and finally he stopped talking.

Why did he do this? To whom did he tell all of this, he asked himself. To the wind, to the nothing, he answered his own question. It took all of his willpower to look up again, up to the blue sky.

"Even though a kind of realization was present with me, but as I was able to go upright again the ground was pulled from under me again. As I dared to hope to have a life without a burden I got a much heavier burden to carry. A task, which I do not think myself capable of solving. With Hermione it was something else she did nothing unjust in her entire life and died nevertheless. You withheld so much from her. A future that was not only promising in the occupational sense, but also in the private one. She was not even allowed to experience how it feels to become a mother. I am convinced of the fact that she would have been great. Why did you let all those things happen? I won’t wait for an answer. I won’t accept fate this time. I’ll change it even it means I bring back evil, even if she’ll hate me for this." This talk changed little.

Harry actually wanted answers and not more questions, therefore he came here. But not only for that, but also because he wanted to say good bye in case he failed.

Unfortunately, he didn’t even know to whom he said good-bye here. Laboriously he rose again. It was still completely unreal to him that this stone existed there with those words. Each individual letter jumped into his eye, as if it was intended. So that he finally got it into his nail-hard head that Hermione was really dead. Nothing of the last weeks could convince him more than this visit that he would do indeed the only thing he could think of. He examined the stone from the top down. The structure, and even the environment in which it stood. Gradually he had talked himself into it. He convinced himself that she was no longer here by his side. The speech gush died down, instead the silence begun. Much too much he had said. He still couldn’t express it at all, not yet. Easily the bouquet leaned against the stone. It was unfortunate that they would wither here, this thought went through his head.

"It’s time that I go," he whispered before himself. Then he turned.

Deeply he dug his cold hands into his pockets. With each breath one could see a fine fog before his face. An indication of cold weather here in London. For some meters he went briskly, until he stopped again, turned and saw the monument of the death from the distance. This place seemed so abandoned to him. Apart from the stone angel the place was abandoned. It seemed somehow as if the angel was genuine. As if the statue was not an inanimate object but genuinely alive. He almost wished this, so that the grave didn’t appear so lonely. He cleared his mind of the sight and left the cemetery with brisk steps. Far too long time had he spent there, though it was meant to be a short visit.

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
I hold your hand through all of this years  
But you still have 

_All of me_

_You used to captivate me_  
By your resonating life  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me 

_These wounds won't seem to heal_  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase  
By Evanescence 


	12. I Want To Be Near You.

_To forgive is the highest, most beautiful form of love. In return, you will receive untold peace and happiness. - Robert Muller_

Darkness was rising around him just like it did the past three months. There wasn’t anything else. Harry still felt like a lost empty shell as if he wasn’t suppose to live, to breathe. Faintly he could hear in his mind the low whisper of the one who betrayed his parents so badly. At some points it seemed as if Wormtail did pay back in the most unlikely way Harry could have think of. By now Wormtail was soulless, just an empty shell. One thing he had kept away from his master was this Time Turner, this magical chain which was more powerful than any Time Turner could be. Harry had no idea what effect this could have at him or his future.

Frankly he did not care. A voice, a familiar voice told him over and over again he must not be seen how well did he know this? How should he manage that if he was about to turn back into a time where at least 50 people were fighting against each other? He must been seen otherwise he could not rescue her, could not save her life. He chuckled slightly that even now he couldn’t help his “saving people thing.” Nothing in this world could hold him back, nothing. It had been a long time before Harry realised the only solution. Slowly he looked at himself, a long black cloak was covering him and in one hand he held the hourglass which he needed to turn exactly three times. Each turn was one month.

It was the exact time and the same day just three months after Hermione had to die. Slightly his left arm was still burning, never in all his dreams had Harry thought to see this mark on his own arm. But it was needed he needed to appear like a real Death Eater. How well Harry remembered how Hermione used this kind of spell on coins just two years ago. Just two years ago. It was unbelievable what had happened in all this time. How much he had learned to love her and how much he missed her. But he would see her again, no matter what. His attention returned to the hourglass in his hand. It didn’t look any different than the Time Turner from his third year but still it felt forbidden.

Never before had he done it; he had never tried it. Deeply he breathed in as he slowly started to turn it three times. The surrounding did slid away from him at an amazing speed. Everything turned into a blurry mass till he found himself on a field near the graveyard. From this spot he could see how spells were flying through the air with green and red colours. At some points they were even purple coloured. Harry was back in time and hopefully not too late. He pushed his Death Eater Mask onto his face. Breathing wasn’t easy anymore but he quickly adjusted to it.

Unnoticed, he got closer and closer to his past-self without getting into a fight with an Auror or member of the Order. Just as he saw a glimpse of Hermione a few meters away someone crossed his way stopped him with spells sent into his direction. Quickly he avoided them before he looked up to face his rival. The determine face of Ron Weasley glared back at him before he had a chance to curse him Harry spoke his own spell to send him right back on the ground.

“Petrificus Totalus!” he cried, pointing his wand at Ron.

Ron’s arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and fell flat on his back, stiff as a board.

Just as Harry looked up from Ron’s terrified face he saw how Hermione was running straight to his past-self. He gasped because this wasn’t planned like that. Fast, fast like never before he ran after her. Not caring if someone saw his odd behaviour or not. In his mind he went over and over the exact wording of the spell he was going to use in just a few seconds. In a note, an old note Harry had found it. In clean handwriting Hermione had written it down, described what it did and how it could only work. Through all of his tries to make this spell work it had never worked, not once in all weeks. The reason was plainly simple his love had died, it couldn’t work. But here three months back in time it was bound to work, bound to protect Hermione. Harry prayed silently that it would. There wasn’t another possibility.

Voldemort had once before survived a reflected killing curse. It was a theory blindly built up on what Hermione had researched the past years. Even though Harry had a lot faith in Hermione he knew what it could cost if she had been wrong in the end. This travelling would have been for nothing, just to see her die once more. Harry banned these thought from his brain as he finally saw how Voldemort started to conjure his deadly curse. Numb, Harry grabbed his wand tightly. Meters away he saw how Hermione, very alive, pushed his past self out of the line of fire.

“Arcessere Caritatus!” Harry cried. A blinding golden fog shot out of his wand and enveloped Hermione nearly completely.

Only seconds later the bright green light hit the fog and went straight to Hermione who felt lifeless to the ground. And now blinding golden light bounced from away from her and hit a surprised Voldemort. But unlike Hermione he did not fall down. All he did was stand there as if trying to regain strength. In disbelief, Harry watched what happened. Both he and his past self were gaping at Hermione. Faintly he heard his own desperate cries.

“No, no this isn’t right, Hermione.” It was surreal to see this all over again, to see how he left her motionless body on the ground just to struggle to his feet and Voldemort for the last time.

This person who had taken away everything that he had once loved so dearly. But Voldemort was no longer standing. He was now on his knees, panting, shaking.

Under his Death Eater mask, Harry knew this was his chance to get to Hermione even if it meant to seeing her for the last time. He had never gotten the chance to say good bye to her. Without realising it he ran towards her faster and faster until he was kneeling at her side while his past self cursed Voldemort with so much force that darkness was illuminated in lightness. He grabbed the mask from his face and stared at it before he got an idea. With a last glance at her pale face he took the mask in one hand and pointed his wand at it.

“Portus!” He whispered for a moment the mask trembled, glowing with an odd blue light; then it quivered to rest, as solidly black as ever.

Then he took Hermione’s hand and laid the mask in. A familiar jerk behind his navel and his knees left the ground just to bump painfully into an old wooden floor.

Hermione lay in front of him, pale and cold to the touch. Harry couldn’t believe it. He was now three months back in time just to see her dead, lying on the floor in the Shrieking Shack. How well he knew he could not leave this place. Not without his Invisibility Cloak and his old map of Hogwarts. Three months he must hide here but how could he get through it if Hermione was just lying there. Absently he stroked her hand which still held the Death Eater mask. With his other hand he took the mask and threw it, frustrated, into a far corner. It hadn’t worked, it just hadn’t worked.

“This wasn’t suppose to happen, Hermione. It can’t be that I just travelled back so my past self could give a weak Voldemort the last bit. Please say it isn’t so? That I have all done it already and nothing changed,” he whispered harshly as he leaned closer to her.

Hermione felt so cold, so lifeless. Finally he knew why they had never found her body not because an insane Death Eater had took her away like Ron had tried to tell Harry but it had been himself. Now he didn’t know what he should do, what should happen from now on? Harry didn’t care what it might do to him to be imprisoned for three months with someone who was so cold, someone whom he had lost three months ago. Just to sit there and watch how the last signs that she was not sleeping vanished. Carefully he lay at her still holding her hand as if he could bring her back.

“Such small hands,” he whispered as he laid his head on her shoulder, wishing he would just sleep and never wake up again.

Harry fell asleep quickly. In fact it was the first time in weeks he slept that easily. Hours later, he woke up again and scanned the room they were in for the first time. It was dusty and really unclean here and there. How well Harry remembered the first time he had been here. Through one of dirty windows shone a faint light. It was day again one day of many he merely thought as he finally let go of her by now warm hand. Harry knew that her body felt just so alive because his own warmness had settled on her. Deeply he breathed in and could smell her unique essence. Dreamily he laid his right arm around her waist and buried his head into her neck. His shoulders shook slightly as he finally let go of his pain and grief. Tears wet her neck.

“Why did you do this? Why?” He mumbled as grip became tighter.

Darkness was heavy on her eyelids, but it was a warm comfortable darkness that surrounded her. She couldn’t move, not yet. She couldn’t remember why she was here and what had happened. All she knew was that she wanted to stay here. The next moment she tried to open her eyes and a fine line of light illuminated the cosy darkness. It did hurt at first but soon she got used to it. Carefully she tried to feel her body. The first thing she recognised was that she lay on a wooden floor. She could feel it under her fingertips. Her neck felt damp. When she finally realized that this warmness came from another person who was embracing her, her tired eyes flew open. Slowly Hermione moved her sore head to see black hair. She could hear loud sobs from Harry.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Painfully, she cleared her throat.

“Harry, w-what happened?” she whispered as she finally touched his head.

But he didn’t react. All she heard again and again was his desperate whisper. “It was my fate. Why did you do this?” His voice sounded broken and rough, so very different than she remembered it.

“Harry!” she croaked louder this time.

For a little moment he turned his head and looked into her eyes but it was as if he didn’t see her, as if she weren’t there. He merely touched her cheek.

“Why did you leave me?” Harry whispered.

In his eyes she saw an unknown sadness, as if the world had stopped spinning, never before he had seen him that pale. His chin was more prominent than she could remember. In her memories under his eyes were black shadows.

His eyes were red from crying. Hermione gulped at this sight in front of her. She pressed his hand against her cheek

“I didn’t leave you. I’m here, I’m here…” she said again and again as she drew him closer to her till he embraced her once more.

His arms went tightly around her and held her as if she were about to vanish. Even breathing hurt so much force was in this embrace.

“Do you care to tell me what happened?” Hermione asked after a while.

“You died. That’s what happened,” he just choked as she looked at him with a stern face.

“What are you talking about?”

“Yo-You pushed me away as Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at me and it hit you right…there.” He placed his left hand on her chest.

Suddenly Hermione turned his hand around and a horrified look appeared on it. The next moment she had found the chain around his head with the Time Turner on it.

“What did you do, Harry?” she asked dangerously. “You didn’t-You didn’t change time? What have you done? Do you realise what this can mean?” Steadily her voice grew louder as the realisation hit her.

Deep into his skin was burned the Dark Mark. “It was too much, Hermione. I couldn’t do it. Don’t you understand I just couldn’t live if everyone was cheering but I hadn’t you by my side. These were the most terrible months in my life.”

“Wait! Months? How far back did you travel? How much Harry?” Fearfully she looked into his eyes.

“At first I didn’t realise how much time went by, but I decided, or will decide, to travel back in time in three months. After I visited your grave I knew I had to do it,” he whispered back.

“Are you even aware of what you did? This could get you into real trouble if only one of them had seen you? What about Voldemort. You said all were cheering, does that mean he was dead?”

Harry just nodded briefly.

“Oh Harry, what you did was so foolish. I’m not worth so much to risk bringing Voldemort back to life,” she whispered finally and pulled him, despite her anger, back into her arms.

“I don’t care. You mean more than a prophecy, a lot more. All I ever wanted was you back. Even if you are mad at me even if you don’t want me near you anymore. I just wanted you back, do you understand this? Please tell me you understand!” His voice sounded so much like by a little boy pleading that the world wasn’t bad.

“Of course, I understand. Of course I do…” Silent tears escaped her eyes as she realised through what he went through and how much he must love her.

“What are we doing now?” Hermione asked absently and broke the silent.

“I know what I’m going to know.” Harry said with the first wicked smile he had smiled in months as he leaned his head on his hand.

“Really?” she asked skeptically but nevertheless didn’t fail to grin slightly as she felt his other hand wandering over her stomach.

“Yeah, really! I’m going to love you, I’m going to make love to you for the next three months, as often as possible. I won’t let you go again. Not ever,” he ended in a low voice as he closed the distance between them.

_I've never written a love song_  
That didn't end in tears  
Maybe you'll rewrite my love song  
If you can replace my fears  
I need your patience and guidance  
And all your lovin' and more  
When thunder rolls through my life  
Will you be able to weather the storm?  
There's so much I would give ya, baby  
If I'd only let myself  
There's this well of emotions  
I feel I must protect  
But what's the point of this armor  
If it keeps the love away, too?  
I'd rather bleed with cuts of love  
Than live without any scars  
Baby, can I trust this?  
Or do all things end?  
I need to hear that you'd die for me  
Again and again and again  
So tell me when you look in my eyes  
Can you share all the pain and happy times  
'Cause I will love you for the rest of my life  
This is my very first love song  
That didn't end in tears  
I think you re-wrote my love song  
For the rest of my years  
I will love you for the rest of my life 

_By Pink_

**Autornote:** _Arcessere Caritatus_ \- Send love.   
In the very first Chapter Hermione used a similar spell on Harry to protect him.


End file.
